I remember when I used to fold my Jimmy Z’s into a neat line, with a raised knot, right above obnoxiously thick white socks. You know, it was the 80’s and “the fold” plagued playgrounds from one valley to the… Read More ›
Prompt
Well, there’s three of you. You’re not exactly Lone.
I remember when we used to call Pirate Radio and request songs to add to our mixed tapes. I particularly liked Paradise City and any other song by Guns and Roses. I also had a bit of a weakness for… Read More ›
Write On, Man
Those aren’t pillows! Prompt: Why do I write? (Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg) Date: 18 October 2011 Location: 26B I write because I know it is going to take a lifetime of writing to explain the answer. I… Read More ›
I Remember When
I remember when… Mrs. Garcia, my fifth grade teacher, would punish me with an order to “write lines.” Whether it was 100, 200, 500, or a thousand lines, and exactly what the script was to say, depended on the severity… Read More ›
Harley Worth a Dime
Harley’s Bowl was where we rolled, almost every weekend. The 60’s inspired single-story building towered over the otherwise empty field, unless the circus was in town. The bleak architecture neither inspired nor dissuaded us. The Nihilists weren’t scripted yet, there were… Read More ›
Let’s Talk About the Birds and the Owls
I have always wanted to be a morning person. It just never happened for me. I tried all the tricks of the trade, especially the entire alarm clock thing. But, for whatever reason “the morning” is just not for me. Ah,… Read More ›
